To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 488

Chapter 488: The proposal 1

LYSANDER

I woke to voices I couldn’t place and light that felt wrong against my eyelids. Someone had moved me. The ground beneath me had transformed into something softer. A bed, probably. The scent of healing herbs hung thick in the air, mixing with the copper tang I’d carried with me from that room.

My body hurt everywhere.

Not the sharp, immediate pain of fresh wounds, but the deep ache that came when those wounds had been partially healed and your flesh remembered the violation anyway. I forced my eyes open. The ceiling above me belonged to the infirmary. Wood beams crossed overhead in patterns I’d memorized during childhood.

A healer whose name escaped me noticed I was awake. She moved toward me with the grace of someone who’d done this a thousand times.

"Don’t try to sit up yet," she said. "You’ve been out for six hours. Your body needs more time."

Six hours. That meant... The council would have convened by now. They’d have seen the bodies, examined the scene , and started piecing together what happened based on evidence and testimony.

Fuck...

"The council," I managed. My throat felt like I’d swallowed broken glass. "They need my statement."

"They’ll get it when you’re strong enough to give it." She pressed a cup to my lips. "Drink."

The liquid tasted bitter. I drank anyway. The herbs would speed healing, dull pain, and probably make me more coherent when the questions started. All the things I needed.

The door opened before I finished the cup. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Elder Jenson entered first. He carried his authority like a physical weight, the kind that came from decades of guiding pack decisions. Two other council members followed. I recognized them both. Elder Freya, who’d known my mother, and Elder Ellis, who’d served my father loyally for longer than I’d been alive.

"Alpha Lysander." Jenson’s voice held careful neutrality. "Are you well enough to speak?"

I pushed myself upright despite the healer’s disapproving sound. Pain flared across my ribs where Father’s chains had connected. I ignored it. "I can speak."

"Good." He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat. The others remained standing, forming a semicircle that felt uncomfortably like judgment. "Tell us what happened. Everything you remember."

I took a breath and let it out slowly. The story had been rehearsed in my head enough times that it came out smoothly. Natural. Like I was recounting events rather than constructing fiction.

"I couldn’t sleep," I started. "I had taken suppressants to avoid touching Hazel Hughes... Our guest and I don’t know... She had reacted badly to it and said things. Things that seemed concerning. Like, if I hated her that badly, she could have one of my brothers or even my father. Knowing her nature and her former crimes, I kept thinking about her words, and I could not help but worry for my father. The rut madness had him completely, and he always ensured he was in mother’s room, not taking a woman through his pain and suffering. So I went to check on him."

Jenson nodded. "Continue."

"The door to my mother’s old room was messed up. That caught my attention because Father would never desecrate her memory like that. That room was an altar to him. He treated it like it held his personal god. But I heard sounds. Movement. Chains." I paused, letting the memory of real chains fill my voice with appropriate horror. "I ran inside."

"And what did you see?"

"Hazel." The name came out harsh. "She was on top of him. I thought he was struggling. She had poisoned him with something which I found out to be wolfsbane and... The wolfsbane had probably weakened him. The chains my father had installed were broken. She’d somehow gotten him down and was trying to—" I cut myself off. Let disgust color my features. "She was trying to force herself on him while he was vulnerable."

Freya’s expression tightened. "You’re certain?"

"I saw it with my own eyes and she said it with her own lips." I met her eyes directly. "She’d dosed him with something. Probably aphrodisiac mixed with the wolfsbane she’d used. The thing was... my father... He couldn’t defend himself."

"Why? What happened next?" Ellis’s voice carried an edge I couldn’t quite read.

"I attacked her. I... I remember.. I pulled her off him. But she was stronger than she looked. We fought." I gestured to the cuts and bruises covering me. "She had the chains. She used them as weapons. I managed to get one around her throat, but father..."

I let the sentence hang. Took another breath that shook more than the previous one.

"...but father..." My voice faltered, not forced this time. I let the silence stretch just long enough to feel real, long enough for the memory I was shaping to settle into something believable.

I swallowed, slower now, like the words cost me something.

"Father wasn’t fighting back."

Ellis frowned slightly. "You said he was struggling."

"He was," I said quickly, then steadied myself. "At first. I thought he was. That’s what it looked like. The chains were moving, he was... reacting. But when I pulled her off him..." I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head like I still couldn’t make sense of it. "Something felt wrong."

Freya’s gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he wasn’t resisting her," I said. "Not really. His body was moving, yes, but it wasn’t controlled. It was... instinct. Reflex. Like whatever she’d given him had taken over completely." I dragged a hand over my face, letting a trace of frustration bleed through. "At first, I thought it was just the rut, made worse by whatever she dosed him with."

"And then?" Jenson prompted, voice quieter now.

I looked down at my hands, flexed them slowly as if I could still feel it.

"I got the chain around her throat," I continued. "I tightened it. She fought back, clawed at me, tried to reach him again. That’s when I saw it."

The room stilled.

"Saw what?" Freya asked.

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